My Exboyfriend
by LilangLuha
Summary: Yama x Goku fic. After many years of dating, Yamamoto and Gokudera decide to break up, but is this really going to work? Yama and Goku's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: ** My Ex-boyfriend Part 1  
**Rating: **M (for cursing)  
**Genre: ** Romance, Drama  
**Pairing: **8059 (Yamamoto x Gokudera)  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Summary: ** My 1st KHR fic. After many years of dating, Yamamoto and Gokudera decide to break up, but is this really going to work? Yama and Goku's POV.  
**Author Notes: **  
a. Don't own.  
b. 1st attempt at KHR Fic (I LOVE 8059!) and attempt at some angst.

**Part 1**

**Gokudera:**

We dated. We fought. We broke up.

That about sums it up. I can't say for sure how things happened, but one thing led to another and suddenly it was over.

"Let's break up," he had said, the usual smiling face now a mixture of conflicting forlorn. He wants to break up but he looks sad about it. What the fuck.

I turned away from him and put a cigarette in my mouth. I knew he hated it when I smoked, but I was pissed... and yes, I admit, this declaration hurt like a bitch.

"I just--- I just think it's for the best." he continued. "After all these years, I feel like this whole thing... like I'm the only one that cares and it hurts."

I didn't turn around and remained quiet. The only one he says? I'm fucking pissed now. Does he really think I'd spread my legs to just anyone? Fuck. I sucked a large breath of smoke to keep my twitching hand from punching his sorry face. I can hear him shifting his weight around nervously, as if he is expecting me to react violently or emotionally. Hell no, I won't give him that satisfaction. He thinks I don't care. Fine.

"Hayato..." he went on. "Feels like you don't love---."

"You done, asshole?" I cut in. I don't want to hear it. Go away.

"But, Hayato, I---"

I steeled my face before turning around. "Look, you came here to say what you needed to say. Don't waste my time 'cause the Tenth needs me soon. So are you done?"

He stared at me for a moment, hands clenched on his sides. His face became blank, but his eyes turned a dark hue of cold amber. I knew he only did this when he was starting to lose patience, which was rare but unexpectedly possible for a man like him.

"Yes, I'm done." he declared. "We're done here."

**

At 29, I'm never really sure what to do with myself. After coming back from the future, life has progressed rather smoothly and peacefully. I dedicated my life for the Vongola and especially for the Tenth, but there aren't too many missions to do now that the issues have been resolved. For the Vongola, most of the members ended up with their own careers outside the family. I busied myself with lab research at Namimori University, with occasional teaching on the side. Sometimes I traveled to Italy to see the Tenth, but that was probably once a month for progress reports or special family occasions. He knew I hated Italy, so he never asked me to go unless it was for family business.

The baseball idiot continued to be the best hitman in the team, but he managed to take over his father's restaurant and become a coach for a local baseball team. Like myself, he sometimes did missions, but the peace at hand made that far and in-between. Surprisingly, life was normal, but it wasn't all that smooth.

We started dating after college graduation. He didn't come to me with a bouquet of roses and ask me out, not that I wanted any of that crap. It just sort of happened. Baseball nut received a degree in business, to help with his father's shop, and I kept pursuing higher education. We had a graduation party with the family at Takesushi which lasted until the midst of a rainy early morning. He insisted on walking me home.

"It's raining pretty hard," he had said with a sheepish grin. "I've got an umbrella. And it's not like you live that far from here."

I just shrugged. Long ago, I would have blown his head off, but times have changed. I guess age does things to you.

Once at the gate of my apartment complex, he abruptly leaned close to me. Taken in surprise, I could only react by backing up against the gate and staring confusedly. He looked nervous yet eager for... something, like a dog who wanted a treat but knew it was bad to beg for it.

"Um, say..." he said, voice slightly shaking. "I, um,..."

He was leaning closer as he spoke, but his stuttering didn't make sense. Feeling his heat and smelling his scent was starting to agitate me. "Just out with it, idiot." I snapped.

"Can I kiss you?"

I blinked, dumbfounded. It wasn't exactly a confession, but knowing this idiot, nothing ever happened straightforwardly. His stare became less nervous but more intense, so my face started to feel hot. What the fuck is he doing? I opened my mouth to call him an idiot, but no words came out. Instead, warm lips gently covered my own. Chaste, sweet, and arousingly addictive. I hated to admit it, but something as ordinary as that felt so damned good.

That's when the 7 years started.

**

"Professor? Professor?"

I looked up from the papers on my desk. Two students from my class peered at me inquisitively. I rubbed my temples. I can't believe I spaced out during office hours.

"Office hours are over. If you want to know how to do this, just read the book." I growled curtly.

The two students looked at each other, then immediately rushed away.

"Dude, we better go, he's in one of those moods," one of them whispered to the other on the way out.

I slammed my office door shut, immediately taking a cigarette to my lips. I made my way to lean against the window, staring at the clear, grassy baseball field of the university grounds.

My eyes grew misty, but no tears came. I hadn't cried since I was a kid and heard about my mother's situation. After that, I had no more tears to shed.

Still, it fucking hurt inside, but it wasn't the same pain as when someone broke your ribs, or when a bomb exploded in your face. It wasn't something that I could put a band-aid on, or get rid of by solving an equation. It was too fucking complex and I hated myself for feeling like a pitiful sap. When I was 14, I would have exploded into a tirade of curses, or blew up a building in absolute rage. Adulthood does things to you, building these invisible lines on the sand for holding anger in a heart-shaped box unless it was "appropriate" to let go. I don't care for these rules, but when it came to that idiot, nothing came straightforwardly.

Fucking ridiculous.

_Let's break up._

_Can I kiss you?_

_We're done here._

I stubbed the cigarette on an ashtray. I needed to go home. I didn't feel hungry, nor feel the need to buy any food. Lately, I come to work, buy cigarettes, then go home. That's the story of my so-called life at fucking 29.

As I put on my coat and grabbed my keys, my office phone rang. I picked up the phone. "Hello?" I grunted.

"Gokudera?" a familiar voice sounded.

I smiled for the first time in days. "Tenth!" I greeted excitedly. "How are you? Did you need something?"

"Ah, no, no. Just... wondering how you are doing?"

Either Tenth's hyper-intuition was that strong, or word within the family just spread that fast. I put on a fake smile, hoping it reached my voice. "I'm doing great, Tenth! My research at the university is taking off and there's talk of potential tenure in a few years! Life's... great right now."

"Ok, that's good to hear." Tenth responded. "Actually, I called to ask a favor."

"Of course, of course. Anything for you, Tenth." I eagerly stated.

"Well, Kyoko and I are getting married."

I gaped.

"And," Tenth continued. "I was wondering if you would be my best man."

I paused a moment. It was certainly good --- no--- great news.

"Gokudera?"

"Ah, yes! Yes, congratulations, Tenth! I'm so honored to be your best man!"

I could practically hear Tenth beaming through the phone. I listened in bittersweet enthusiasm as Tenth continued explaining the details of the impending wedding. Strange. It felt like only yesterday that we were in junior high watching the Tenth pine over this same girl.

"I'm hoping you can help coordinate the guardians in Japan to come here for the wedding," he said. "Er, that is... if you are ok with that."

There it was again, that tone of uncertainty. No, I don't want the Tenth to worry about me, especially not about something so stupid. "Of course, Tenth!" I reassured him. "I'd love to help in any way I can."

"Thank you, Gokudera. I'll send you the guest list soon."

I didn't have to ask him if a certain someone is on the list. It was obvious, but I didn't want to think about it too much.

End of Chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: ** My Ex-boyfriend Part 2  
**Rating: **M (for cursing)  
**Genre: ** Romance, Drama  
**Pairing: **8059 (Yamamoto x Gokudera)  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Summary: **_ After many years of dating, Yamamoto and Gokudera decide to break up, but is this really going to work? Yama and Goku's POV. _

**Author Notes: **  
a. This Chapter from Yamamoto's POV :-D Enjoy!

**Yamamoto:**

His fiery temper attracted me. I think it was the way his eyes lit up like emerald fire when he wanted to punch the daylights out of me. Or maybe it was the way he'd sometimes quietly purse his pink lips into an adorable pout when he was displeased but didn't want to deal with it. It was a gradual kind of love, where I realized slowly over time that I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Or so I thought.

As years went by and lives went on, I started wondering about this feeling deep inside. Was it real? Were these past 7 years meant to be? Because lately, I just feel tired. The way he'd complain that I didn't stack the dishes away the way he wanted me to, or even the way I forgot to make his coffee with a little bit of cream, wore me out. Next thing I knew, the little things started piling up, one on top of the other. I thought I could handle it all, just knowing that there was this special kind of love between us, but there wasn't.

There was never a time he said he loved me, and that hurt more than anything else combined.

"Let's break up." I said on the university rooftop that day. He just continued smoking those ridiculous cancer sticks. I tried my best to ignore the smell of nicotine invading my nostrils. A part of me was furious, knowing that he was dragging his smoke just to spite me.

"Look, you came here to say what you need to say. Don't waste my time 'cause the Tenth needs me soon. So are you done?"

I clenched my hands into fists to keep the back of my eyes from stinging. I realized he wasn't going to fight for it because he didn't care. He wasn't going to admit to anything, and he wasn't going to try to work it out. That was always my role in this one-sided circus. My nervousness and pain melted into numbness instead of uncontrollable rage. It was over.

"Yes, I'm done." I declared. For a second, I thought I saw a glimmer of something in those emerald eyes. I must be imagining it.

"We're done here." I stated before turning away and walking down the set of stairs.

XXXXXXX

"So, is that all your things?" Dad asked, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

I smiled like I always do. "Yeah, thanks for this, Dad."

"You know you are always welcome back anytime, son." Dad reminded me, but the expression on his face didn't go away.

"I'm ok, really." I reassured, draping an arm around his shoulder.

He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a customer entering the front of the shop. I was glad; I didn't want to hear another of his lectures, especially today. It was painful enough packing up while Gokudera was at work.

It didn't take long for me to move my things upstairs. I grabbed a pile of crumpled clothes then opened my old closet. I chuckled upon seeing my old baseball jersey and high school uniform hanging precariously in there. Why is it that memories were like events happening through rose-tinted glasses?

I began clearing out the closet floor to make more room. I hesitated, then picked up a black umbrella, dusty and worn from several years of neglect.

I remembered vividly the soft pattering of the rain, and the fresh scent of nicotine mixed with musk.

_Just out with it, idiot._

He was so cute, with the deep red of his face betraying the harshness of the voice leaving those lips. Yes, those very same lips were velvet-soft, pliant, and so very tantalizingly virginal. This unexpected purity drove me wild. I wanted to do him then, in the rain, against the cold metal gates. I wanted so bad to capture this beautiful, green-eyed monster and take him before anyone else did, but I didn't. Not then anyway.

I groaned, tossing the umbrella back inside the closet. Suddenly fantasizing chaste kisses after breaking up with him was wrong. I needed to forget about this man, and the only way was to lock my emotions and throw away the key. I know it's not ideal, but at some point, I'd be able to forget those images under rose-tinted glasses.

XXXXXXX

I didn't want to go. I tried my best to come up with some excuse, like there's a community baseball game going on, or that there's a big event at the sushi shop. For the life of me, I couldn't even laugh it off, play dumb, or say no.

It hurt a little to pick up the phone and hear the news via third person. He didn't even call me directly; he had Ryohei call my cellphone.

"Ok, I'll be there." I said as cheerfully as I could to my former senpai.

I trudged my way to the cafe where all the Vongola affiliates in Namimori were meeting up. It had been a while since I last saw everyone, so there must be some big news. I gingerly opened the door and quickly saw the group lounging in the back of the shop.

I took a deep breath, then gave the brightest signature smile I could muster. "Hey! Haven't seen you guys in a while!" I greeted. I winced internally, realizing my voice was a little too high.

"Whoa! You made it!" Ryohei stood up and gave me a high-five. Nobody seemed to notice the fake smile.

The table seated Ryohei, Hibari (unhappy, but present with his arms crossed in the usual manner), Haru, Chrome, and Gokudera. Gokudera was looking at a pile of papers in front of him intently.

"You're late," he grunted, pushing his glasses up but not looking away from the papers.

I noticed the dark circles behind those glasses, and the way the dress shirt hung loosely against his shoulders. Since when did he get so skinny? Was he sleeping or eating lately?

"Uh, Yamamoto? Are you sitting down?" Haru asked.

I snapped out of my thoughts. Everyone was blinking up at me expectantly. "Ha-ha, yeah of course!" I laughed it off. There were only two empty seats, but I chose to sit next to Haru instead of the grumpy silverette. I have to keep the peace, at least during this meeting, and Haru was bubbly enough to keep things light-hearted.

Gokudera suddenly banged his mug of coffee down on the table. His eyebrow was slightly twitchy, but I knew that I'd be the only one who noticed this quirk. The twitch meant he was pissed about something. Why is he suddenly so mad? Did I do something again? I erased the questions from my thoughts. What Gokudera was feeling is none of my business. The waitress probably made his coffee too creamy.

The right-hand man continued with the meeting, explaining the planning and coordination effort for Tsuna's wedding day, which was fast approaching.

"Wow, so romantic!" Haru giggled excitedly. "They really are rushing this thing, aren't they? Isn't it a little too soon? One month isn't much time!"

Gokudera rolled his eyes. That was something he did often around Haru, but I couldn't quite pin-point why she irritated him so much.

"It's the Tenth's decision, so we'll do whatever it takes to make it happen." Gokudera stated. "The plane tickets have already been purchased, so we'll all be heading out in a month's time. The Tenth will be mailing the tickets out to each of us. We'll all be in Italy at the Vongola villa for a week." He handed everyone a paper itinerary. "Read it, and don't miss the flight."

"Hey," Haru whispered to me. "Did Gokudera loose weight? He seems rather hollow today. Is he sick?"

"...I wouldn't know."

"How do you not know? Aren't you guys dating?"

I gave her a wan smile.

She gasped. "You broke up!?" Haru exclaimed. She clapped both hands on her mouth while looking around the table with eyes wide as saucers.

"Hm? What broke?" Chrome asked inquisitively.

"WHOA!" Ryohei chimed in. "You and Octopus Head broke up?"

I waved my hands around in surrender. "L-look, I think we all need to calm down."

"I'm so sorry, Yamamoto." Haru pleaded. "I didn't mean to blab."

"So it's true," Ryohei said in amazement. "You both broke up."

"Well, i-it's not... I think people are getting too caught up and making a deal out of this." I said, trying to calm the situation before things exploded out of proportion.

Palms slammed loudly against the table, jolting the group into eerie silence.

I felt cold sweat running down my back as I slowly turned to face him. His eyes were dark pools of lightning green.

"We're done here." he said, voice low and threatening. He gathered his papers and stormed out of the coffee shop.

End of chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: ** My Ex-boyfriend Part 3  
**Rating: **M (for cursing)  
**Genre: ** Romance, Drama  
**Pairing: **8059 (Yamamoto x Gokudera)  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Summary: **_ My 1st KHR fic. After many years of dating, Yamamoto and Gokudera decide to break up, but is this really going to work? Yama and Goku's POV. _

**Author Notes: **  
a. Goku's POV :-D  
b. SO SO Sorry so late! I just moved and getting acclimated to many things. Rush rush.  
c. Enjoy!

**Gokudera:**

Fucking baseball nut with his fucking smile and fucking laugh and fucking late to every meeting... and what the fuck is up with him and his fucking friendliness to that woman? Why is everyone acting like a bunch of 14 year olds? Fuck.

I shook my head vehemently to rid myself of these stupid thoughts. I continued my trek away from the coffee shop as I deftly grabbed a cigarette from my pocket and lit it in one swoop.

_The idiot can go ahead and do whatever he fucking wants because I really don't care what the idiot does._

xxxxx

Obviously, not all the Vongola affiliates attended the same plane flight, but some were on the same flights in different seats. I thanked the Tenth over and over again in my head for his consideration of plane seat assignments. I was on the corner window seat next to Chrome, the least annoying of any other guardian currently stationed in Namimori. Luckily, Chrome was quietly playing Sudoku when she was awake, but slept like a rock as soon as the plane took off the ground. As long as her... other self didn't show up, it was fine.

I cringed as soon as I heard that familiar laugh coupled with a loud, annoying voice. I turned to look at seats way back occupied by a certain black-haired idiot next to a very vocal lawn head.

Oh, fucking great.

I turned away to continue reading my book, immediately pretending not to recognize them and attempting to not acknowledge how loud those two were combined.

"Hey, you think Sawada would want a bachelor party?" I heard Ryohei ask loudly.

"Ha-ha, I think it'd be fun," the baseball idiot's reply echoed across the plane.

My hand twitched. I shifted my eyes from the page on my book to the brightly lit no smoking sign. Despite the no smoking rule on airplanes, they still had no smoking signs. It was pretty unnecessary.

"Shit," I muttered to myself. I reached into my pocket for a pack of Eclipse gum, but quickly realized I left the pack in the overhead luggage.

"Kufufufufu..." a voice next to me chuckled.

"Ah, shit," I cursed again.

"Why so serious, Mr. Right Hand Man?" the deep voice asked.

I turned to see Chrome's other self peering curiously at me. Gone were the large innocent eyes and quiet smile. In place of it was a lanky, tall man with a sly, mischievously irritating smile on his lips.

"Oh, it's you," I responded with not the least bit of enthusiasm. "After all these years of shrink therapy, you'd think she'd suppress you more often."

"Oh? Maybe you should get therapy too," Mukuro responded. "Cigarettes and coffee doesn't mend a breaking heart."

"Like you're an expert."

"Such a stubborn man. Well, that's what makes you all so amusing," he laughed softly again. Without warning, the man leaned closer. "Everyone around us is asleep, it's so boring. Let's make some fun."

My eyes widened as I pulled back, slightly uncomfortable from feeling a warm breath on my face. "What are you –?"

"You know, there are other ways besides cigarettes and therapy for forgetting the pain." Mukuro moved forward again, smile becoming increasingly cunning with a mild hint of amusement.

I felt his index finger tuck under my collar then trace down the collarbone, and I hated to feel a shiver of unwanted pleasure from such simple act. I moved to smack his finger away, but he grabbed my wrist deftly. My reactions felt slow; my body felt heavy, like the cabin pressure was too much. Was this an illusion?

"Stop, you freak," I snapped, struggling to twist my wrist. For some reason, I couldn't move quick or hard enough. I cursed myself.

"No, it's not an illusion," the man said, as if answering my earlier thought. "things happen when you haven't satisfied yourself in a while."

"Th-that's bullshit!" I moved backward again, only to feel the pull of the seatbelt on my hip and my back hitting the wall next to the window.

"Hm? Why don't we play a little?" he coaxed. He put a palm next to my head, steadying himself. He leaned down to lightly lick my neck.

I squirmed a little. I hated admitting to myself that I was getting hot in my dress shirt, and that it did feel good to have that moist tongue running down to the junction of my neck and shoulder. I wanted something more, and yes, it'd been a while since any form of sex. From drowning myself in self-pity with a bottle of red wine to just flat out spacing out at my apartment balcony, there just wasn't much motivation to go out and get laid. Actually, it'd been a sick cycle of self-isolation since that idiot broke up with me. I squeezed my eyes shut. I hated this, but I yearned for it. Fuck.

I nearly jumped feeling a hot palm pan across my chest. "Stop!" I whispered harshly.

"Shhh," he crooned, breath heavy against my skin. "You might wake everyone around us... unless you're into that too. I certainly don't mind."

"Get off, bastard." I grit out, voice shaking.

"Really? What if I can bring your dreams to reality?" he whispered against the shell of my ear. He rested his head on my shoulder for a moment, then pulled back enough so his face came to view. I saw Yamamoto Takeshi's face. "Does this face look better?" the fake Yamamoto asked, grinning a familiar grin.

I stared dumbly at the amber eyes before me. It was one hell of a good illusion.

He's not the baseball idiot, and I know that. That idiot broke it off. He totally, absolutely broke it off and never wanted to see me at the cafe. He avoided looking at me; he probably never wanted to touch me ever again. He hates me.

_We're done here._ The voice echoed in my head.

Unexpected tears brimmed the corner of my eyes, but I pushed them back. I'm going crazy. What am I doing? One moment, I was sitting peacefully at a normal plane ride with the "least annoying" guardian, then next I'm pinned against the wall with a pseudo-Yamamoto and getting nostalgic yet disgustingly aroused at the same time.

The fake Yamamoto kissed me. To my horror, I let him. It felt so good to feel those rough lips, that tongue, and those calloused, athletic hands running down my chest to my abdomen. The kisses trailed down to my neck, until that mouth was once again at the junction of my neck and shoulder. I gasped as I felt a sharp nip on my skin, followed by a delicious, wet suction on the very same spot.

I bit down on my lip, trying to drown out a soft, strangled moan. I wanted to scream "No" and push the guy off. Instead I leaned against the wall and let him do as he pleased, relishing in the illusion of something I may never have again.

"What are you doing!" a voice exclaimed.

Suddenly the warmth of body heat disappeared. My eyes popped wide open. I saw Mukuro being shoved hard against his own seat by the baseball nut. Yamamoto pulled his arm back, ready to punch the Mist guardian.

"Don't!" I exclaimed, reaching out only to catch air.

"Stop!" a female voice cut through the cabin.

Yamamoto's fist froze mid air.

I looked around us, seeing that the other passengers nearby were wide awake, either curious of the spectacle or cringing in fear. There was one stewardess next to Yamamoto, gripping his other arm.

"Sir, if there is a problem with the other passengers please notify the airline staff first." she said, the shakiness of her voice showed the fear beneath the facade of her professionalism.

Yamamoto stared dumbly at the stewardess for a moment, then his face and body relaxed. He smiled brightly at the woman, the corner of his eyes crinkling. "I apologize, it was just a misunderstanding," he stated.

The stewardess looked at him wearily. "As I said, please notify airline staff first."

"Yes, ma'm," he said, still holding that overly-bright smile. He pointed to Mukuro. "you see, this man here took my seat and I wanted it back. He's supposed to be back in 34-C."

"Man?" the stewardess asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Hm? Yamamoto, what are you doing here?" said a tiny voice beside me.

Chrome looked up with her large, innocent eyes at the scene before her. She looked from left to right, watching the spectators ogling, the stewardess staring wearily at Yamamoto, and Yamamoto's barely contained smile.

"Um, uh... did something happen?" Chrome asked cautiously, feeling the murderous intent in the air.

"Miss, it seems you are in the wrong seat." the stewardess informed her.

"Huh? I am?" Chrome blinked. "But I thought I double checked the numbers -?"

"Haha. It seems there's been a change," Yamamoto cut in. "we need to change seats for now."

"Oh, er, ok..." Chrome chose not to ask anymore questions, seeing as she didn't like being the center of attention for too long.

"She doesn't need to go anywhere, idiot," I bit out. "There's no need to go this far."

"So it's OK for anyone to be here except me?" Yamamoto responded venomously.

"That's not it, idiot, and you know it."

"That's not what it sounded like," Yamamoto exclaimed, voice rising again. "So you don't care who it is, just anyone to open up to is ok with you, huh!"

"Calm the fuck down!"

"How do you expect me to calm down!"

"You're making a big deal out of this. Nothing happened!"

"If I hadn't happened to pass by, you would've gotten eaten up!"

"Eaten! I'm not some free lunch buffet, idiot. What the fuck?"

"I'LL SWITCH!" Chrome exclaimed, standing up between us. She covered her mouth at her own unexpected outburst. She looked nervously at me then him. "Um, uh. That is... please let me switch seats with Ryohei-senpai... Ryohei-senpai can sit with Gokudera... if it's, uh, ok with both you...?"

Yamamoto remained silent. He stared straight at me, eyes cold and unreadable, before breaking the gaze and stalking back to his seat. Chrome gathered up her things quickly.

"I'm so sorry, Gokudera," she said softly. "I-I'll go over there. Ryohei-senpai won't bother you much. And it's true that we have to keep up appearances too, since we are the Vongola guardians..."

I felt a pang on my chest then cursed myself for losing it. The Vongola's Right-hand man acting like a wanton idiot in public was unacceptable.

I watched her silently as she neatly stashed away all her sudoku books in a bag. She gave a polite bow then left. Seconds later, lawn-head came around with an oblivious grin on his face.

"Hey! Octopus-head!" he exclaimed loudly. "I'm glad to switch seats. Gives some excitement for an extremely long flight!"

The lawn-head continued chattering away in his usual fashion. I felt a migraine coming on and attempted to ignore it.

It was an extremely long flight.

-Chapter end-


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: ** My Ex-boyfriend Part 4  
**Rating: **M (for cursing)  
**Genre: ** Romance, Drama  
**Pairing: **8059 (Yamamoto x Gokudera)  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Summary: **_ My 1st KHR fic. After many years of dating, Yamamoto and Gokudera decide to break up, but is this really going to work? Yama and Goku's POV. _

**Author Notes: **  
a. Yama's POV :-D  
b. Not much action here, but it's more... reflective(?).  
c. Enjoy!

**Yamamoto:**

I didn't sleep on the flight nor the drive to the family villa. My head was filled with thoughts of anger, resentment, bitterness, and an infuriatingly erotic image of a blushing face with swollen pink lips.

I don't know what came over me, but I remember every moment of the events on the plane. I'm not one to explode in a situation without calmly assessing and finding more diplomatic ways to resolve it. I really don't know if I like this side of me, but I can't get him out of my head.

The worst was when he shifted a little in his seat as he told me "What the fuck?" The words didn't affect me as much as when his collar opened enough to reveal a reddish-purple mark on his porcelain neck.

Out of nowhere, there was a dark whisper in my head repeatedly saying, "He's mine. Don't fuck with what's mine."

I wanted to smash someone's face in. I wanted to push everyone away. I wanted to shove Gokudera in the airplane bathroom, throw him against the wall, and fuck him till he understood that nobody else can have him.

I'm one sick bastard.

I needed to stop thinking this way. My father taught me to be a polite, courteous, and diplomatic gentleman. I am Takeshi Yamamoto, the Rain guardian, the all-around Japanese guy, the popular star baseball player, and the one person who anyone could talk to without feeling intimidated. People like me, and I like it when people feel at ease around me. It's not right for me to be thinking of smashing someone's face in, let alone a fellow guardian, during a civilian flight. It certainly wasn't right to fantasize about taking someone out of their own will and forcing my feelings on them. If Gokudera wanted to be with someone else, I had no right to say so. It's his choice.

"But he's mine," the dark voice whispered insistently in my head. "All mine, all mine."

"Shut up," I told myself.

xxxxx

The villa was a spur of chaotic excitement, with everyone attending to the arrangements and coordination of the wedding in addition to greeting and paying respects to the Tenth. In a sense it was good for me since I barely saw the silverette; he was doing much coordination with the Vongola guardians. In addition, the Villa is a large estate that can house a number of families and included sizable surrounding land. Hence, the only times I ever saw Gokudera was during meetings with large groups of people.

When the Varia arrived, I was ecstatic. Finally I had someone to spar with to get rid of this pent up anger and frustration. Squalo and I practiced for long hours, and it felt great. It came to a point that the only times I thought about Gokudera was at night right before I went to bed. It wasn't the passionate nights of ecstasy, but the quiet nights of watching him sound asleep in my arms that were most memorable and hard to forget. The moonlight would shine through the apartment window, illuminating his silver hair and pale skin. Nobody would believe me, but he really did look like an innocent angel.

"VOIII!" Squalo yelled during practice. "What's wrong with you, brat! You suck today!"

I laughed. "Ha-ha. Really?"

Squalo grabbed the front of my shirt and shook me hard. "Don't play dumb with me. You're brain isn't here; you're thinking of something else. This swordplay is fucking boring!" He stopped and paused a minute. "It's him, isn't it?"

"Hm?"

"I told you not to play dumb with me," Squalo said, letting me go. "You and your little girlfriend are having problems, aren't you?"

"No, he's not my–."

Squalo jabbed a finger hard on my chest. "I don't care, brat. It's obvious you want him. You can't even swing your sword straight 'cause your head is thinking of getting a piece of ass. You want him, so just take him!"

"I can't just do that!"

He raised an eyebrow then asked, "Why not?"

"I-I just can't." I sputtered, frustrated. People don't understand how difficult it is to handle the infamous Storm Guardian.

"VOI! Why the hell are you so concerned about being so damned NICE!" Squalo exclaimed. He sheathed his sword and began to walk away. "Tsch! This is pathetic! I'm not sparring with you anymore."

"What! But Squalo—."

The man stopped walking then quickly turned around to face me. "Look, the Rain Guardian I know doesn't give up before the stupid game has even started," he said. "You like him a lot, right?"

"I..."

"You like him enough to go out with him, despite that fact that he's a walking path of destruction, explosions, and those damn temper tantrums. You'd think he was always on his period or something."

"…I guess so."

"Then what's the hold up? When you want to get to third base, do you stop to think and ask for directions?"

"No! That's not the problem. He just… I don't think he loves me."

"You don't THINK he loves you!" Squalo stated, voice rising again.

"He never told me all these years; just a bunch of cursing and insults." I quickly explained. "It's always been me saying it… There's like this endless cycle of me apologizing and always me trying to tell him how I feel… and after a while things became a chore. It's like I stayed with him because I was just kind of hanging on."

"…Did you ask him?"

I paused a moment, thinking the situation through as best I could. As the seconds ticked on, I felt my face grow hot. "Um…, ha-ha…"

"Did you corner him and ask him?"

"Well..."

"Did you force him to answer you?"

"No…"

"SO YOU WIMPED OUT BEFORE YOU EVEN WENT UP TO THE BATTING CAGE!"

"NO! THAT'S NOT IT! It's…just that I…" I stared down at my feet and shifted my weight awkwardly. What was wrong with me? Why am I so hesitant? Did I really not give it my all? What the hell do I do?

The man in front of me heaved a heavy sigh then swung an arm around my shoulders. "Let me tell ya something." He said, "Love is like a fucking alcohol addiction. Your brain is telling you you've had enough and your body is convulsing in painful ulcers, but you just keep taking it in, no matter how sweet or bitter the damned thing is, because it feels so fucking good and you don't want anyone else to taste it."

I shook my head vehemently. "It doesn't taste that sweet."

"But it's not all that bitter, is it?"

"It's not really an addiction. I ended it."

"Really," Squalo said in mock disbelief. "If that's the case, then you're ok with someone else getting a taste?"

I remained silent, my forehead creasing.

Squalo slapped my back, and then walked toward the practice hall entrance. "Just don't come crying to me when you're in withdrawal," he chuckled. Without turning around, he gave a wave as his tall form exited the room.

- End of Chapter -


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: ** My Ex-boyfriend Part 5  
**Rating: **M (for cursing)  
**Genre: ** Romance, Drama  
**Pairing: **8059 (Yamamoto x Gokudera)  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Summary: **_ My 1st KHR fic. After many years of dating, Yamamoto and Gokudera decide to break up, but is this really going to work? Yama and Goku's POV. _

**Author Notes: **  
a. Goku's POV :-D  
b. Been reeeally stressed, so the only solution is to torture more pretty boys LOL jk. I love these boys, really.  
c. Enjoy!

**Gokudera:**

I kept myself busy since arriving at the Vongola Villa, mostly with coordinating the Vongola guardians for Tenth's special day. When I wasn't doing that, I buried myself with reading and research in the Vongola library. I never spent time in my room, almost always falling asleep in the library, surrounded by rare texts and, sometimes, Uri curled up next to my head.

The Guardians avoided me for the most part. Occasionally, Tenth visited to discuss the wedding or keep up with reports.

"Gokudera," Tenth asked one day. "have you been eating?"

I blinked. "Of course, Tenth! Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no." Tenth waved his arms around. "It's just you don't look so well lately. I wondered if maybe you ought to see Dr. Shamal-."

"No, that's ok, Tenth," I responded quickly. I beamed brightly at him. "See? Your Right Hand Man doesn't fall that easy."

The Tenth replied with a smile. "Just don't overdo it, ok?"

I nodded.

xxxxx

I feel like fucking hell. In fact, I feel like I'm going to throw up. No, it's not because my sister sat somewhere amongst the ballroom tables across from us (she even wore glittered goggles to this special event). It's because I'm currently having bouts of dizziness and a quickly rising fever as I sit at the wedding party table contemplating a way to a quick smoke break. As much as I love having the honor of sitting next to the Tenth during the wedding reception, I really needed to leave before I disgraced myself.

Tenth's ceremony was short and sweet, and the group was quickly guided to the Villa ballrooms for the reception. At this moment, the Tenth stood at the center of the wedding party table, giving a great thank you toast to the group. With my head swimming, I heard none of it.

Once the speech ended and the music started, I excused myself from the table. I made my way through the balcony doors and thanked the breeze of fresh air on my face. I leaned against the stone rail and took out a cigarette, appreciating the gradually diminishing headache and the beauty of the full moon glowing against the blue-black sky.

I was watching the swirl of the cigarette smoke dissipating when I heard a voice that broke the serenity.

"Um, can we talk a bit?" the voice said quietly.

I didn't face him. My headache was coming back fast and hard, so I just stared at the moon as I puffed another round of smoke.

"You know," he continued. "I wanted to make something clear. So… can I ask just one question?"

My heart squeezed. I turned around, making sure to avoid seeing his face, and then shoved past toward the balcony doors.

"Wait!" he insisted, grabbing hold of my arm.

"Fuck off!" I growled, brushing him off. It burned where his fingers touched me. "I don't want to hear it!" I spat, my voice rising. "It's not enough for you that you have to keep saying this shit to my face? Why can't you leave me alone?"

"Look, just answer my question and I promise to leave you alone for good!"

I could feel my blood pressure rising and my face growing warm. This guy is really an idiot. "If this is about what happened with Mukuro-."

"It's not about that!"

"- then I don't give a shit. It's none of your damned business anyway!"

"I told you it's NOT THAT!"

"The FUCK it's not! You're being a fucking pest! Are you here to reiterate how we're now over?"

"Just let me talk! I-!"

I moved to his left to brush past him, but was immediately blocked by his lanky body in front of me. "Get out of my way!" I snarled, attempting to push him to the side.

He grabbed my shoulders and gently pushed me back with little effort. I felt the heat from his fingertips through my clothes, causing a slight tingling sensation on my skin. Then, a sudden whiff of Aqua di Gio invaded my nostrils, its fragrance resolutely sweet yet masculine. Without warning, a wave of dizziness overcame my senses. Mustering up the energy to look at his face, I glared sharply at him.

He didn't glare back at me with cold, angry eyes. The amber orbs merely glistened with a thin sheen of wetness illuminated by the blue moonlight. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, showing a hint of a crease on his forehead.

For that moment, my head swam in heat and pain, but it was not as bad as the incessant fluttering on my chest. "I need to get back," I said, standing still. The fever was getting the best of my common sense. I quickly shifted my eyes from the forlorn expression in front of me to my polished Armani dress shoes. "The Tenth must be looking for me and I—."

"You… don't love me, do you?" he asked, his hands squeezing my shoulders.

I stared at him with wide eyes. Did he just say that? Did he just assume I'd fucking spread my legs to anyone? Did he really think that after all those years together, putting up with his baseball-idiot fanaticism, foregoing chances for a hetero relationship, supporting him through the toughest of missions, and even the kinky cosplay sex was nothing but a fucking fling?

My head started pounding and the haze of my vision was no better; but neither compared to this strange fire burning in my chest.

"So it's true," he declared quietly, eyes becoming cold in resolution. "You never loved me— URGH!"

My fist reacted before I could think. I felt the knuckles painfully connect with the line of his jaw with a loud cracking sound. Suddenly, he was on the ground, leaning against the closed balcony doors, glaring at me with his infamous cold, hitman stare.

"Fuck you," I choked out, swallowing a sob.

He sat up, rubbing his bruised jaw. "You could've just told me; you didn't have to hit me!"

My temper flared. The next thing I knew, I was punching, hitting, clawing, spitting, and screaming a stream of profanities on top of my lungs. He got up and tried to stop me at first, saying something about a party and being too loud, but I didn't really hear him. His efforts to cease fire made me angrier so I rebelled harder. I must have said something to piss him off, because, after a while, he started fighting back too. At that moment, I just didn't care about what was going to happen to me. The throbbing of my head and the squeezing of my chest were dominating my senses more than anything else.

"What's going on here!" a stern command rang through the balcony.

Recognizing the voice, I immediately stopped.

The Tenth stood in front of the balcony entrance with many of the party guests standing directly behind him, speculating at the scene before them. Right next to the Tenth stood Kyoko, her mouth covered by her elegantly gloved hand. I couldn't bear to look at the Tenth, his facial expression stern, angry, and disappointed.

_NO, no, nonono… Dammit, I fucked up! I fucked up!_

Shit…

I took shaky step toward the Tenth. "Tenth…"

"I said, what's going on here?" the Tenth repeated.

I wanted to apologize. I wanted to get on my knees and let the Tenth know that it was my entire fault I shamed the event. Yet, only an empty breath came out.

The Tenth blinked at me. "Gokudera?" His expression gradually changed from anger to confusion then concern.

"Tenth, I…" My voice seemed faint, and the party started looking faded. I felt myself stumble.

I saw the Tenth's lips moving rapidly, but no sound reached my ears. The last thing I remember were my knees buckling and the world fading to black.

- End of Chapter-


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: ** My Ex-boyfriend Part 6  
**Rating: **M (for cursing)  
**Genre: ** Romance, Drama  
**Pairing: **8059 (Yamamoto x Gokudera)  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Summary: **_ My 1st KHR fic. After many years of dating, Yamamoto and Gokudera decide to break up, but is this really going to work? Yama and Goku's POV. _

**Author Notes: **  
a. Yama's POV :-D  
b. Thnx for awaiting - Longer chapter ahead.  
c. Enjoy!

**Yamamoto:**

My heart stopped cold as the lithe body crumbled toward the stone floor. I vaguely recall yelling his name, lunging forward desperately to reach him, and hearing an inner voice of concern rapidly flashing through my head.

_NO! Is he ok? What's going on? Did I hit him too hard? Is he sick? What did I just do? I need to get him to a doctor..._

A slim body swiftly blocked my way. A tall, pink haired woman with glittered goggles stood before me with an expressionless face. Despite her cold exterior, I knew from her glare that she was livid with anger.

"Yamamoto Takeshi," she spoke in her usual monotone voice. She folded her arms across her chest and said no more.

I took a step forward, trying to see what was happening over Bianchi's shoulder. "I-I'm sorry, Bianchi-."

"It's your fault," she stated, her eyes narrowed slightly. "You don't deserve my brother."

xxxxx

Dr. Shamal took Gokudera to the villa's infirmary. He informed the group that the silverette had a fever, possibly from stress, and insisted on plenty of rest.

After the doctor's advice, Tsuna pulled me aside and kindly asked me to not see Gokudera for a while.

My heart squeezed painfully at the request. I did not want to cause anymore trouble for Tsuna, Gokudera, or anyone here, so I simply smiled sadly in response.

Despite Shamal's advice and Tsuna's request, I still wanted to see him. No, I needed to see him. I wanted to know for myself that he was fine. I wanted to hold him tight, apologize profusely, and let him know that I'm the biggest idiot ever for making him feel this way. I wanted to let him know that I hurt him and I promise not to bother him ever again.

Bianchi was right. I don't deserve him.

When I saw his limp body lying on the ground, it dawned on me that I didn't care about anything else. After all these years, did it matter whether he said "I love you"? Did it matter that he didn't stand in the middle of the park and loudly declare his love for me? Why get so hung up on that when actions speak louder than words? All that mattered was his happiness.

Gokudera Hayato always had a harsh way of expressing himself, but he also had a secretive way of doing things that were cute and sweet. It was also this quiet kind of love that drew me to him. He wasn't the type to sugarcoat his words and declare anything out loud, but it made the rare love that he willingly gives genuine and special.

_I really am an idiot._

It was 3am when I finally paused from pacing in my room. The party already ended and almost everyone retired for the evening, but I couldn't sleep. My chest ached too much, and my mind filled with thoughts of seeing him. I couldn't seem to keep calm.

_Love is like a fucking alcohol addiction._

I stood up and found myself standing in front of my door, staring at the brass knob inches from my reach. I remained there for a good ten minutes, just staring dumbly at the object while deep in thought, wavering for a moment of my plan to search for the silverette. After all, the whole thing's my fault anyway.

I cursed under my breath. _Shit. I can't stand this…_

I shook my head vehemently. I gripped the doorknob tightly as I twisted it open. I shut the door behind me as soon as I stepped into the hall.

It was quiet, the emptiness clear and profound, making the essence of the wedding seem nothing but a fantasy.

Quietly, I made my way eastward. It didn't take long for me to pause a moment upon hearing a faint sound. I turned around swiftly to find nobody behind me.

_No, it's not a person's voice… It's not human… It's…._

There it was again, that pale, smooth sound that echoed faintly across the hall. The back of my mind screamed at me to continue forward toward the infirmary, but my feet had a mind of its own and detoured to the north section of the villa. Each step taken, the sounds became clearer, louder, more passionate and intensified. My heart beat faster and faster as I reached closer to this mysterious destination.

The next thing I knew, I was standing by the doorway of the music room, staring at a pale-haired man sitting on a piano bench, his slender fingers flying through rows of ivory keys with little effort. Next to the piano was a tall window which illuminated a pale glow of moonlight onto this beautiful, impassioned creature.

I stood there frozen in awe at the grace, elegance and the mastery of such music. In front of the pianist was a booklet with the page labeled "The Promise" by Michael Nyman. The sound produced was dramatic, yet heart-wrenchingly nostalgic. I don't know much about music, but hearing and seeing this was enough to convince me that there are things that just can't be described in words.

_I love you. I'm sorry, I'm greedy. I made you sad, but I still love you…_

The music's pace slowed, the last note echoing vibrantly through the music room until it faded silent.

The slender fingers lifted off the keys and settled on his lap. He turned his head to stare out the window toward the moon.

"Are you just going to stand there or what?" He said quietly.

"Oh! Er… I…," I stammered, then gave a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I was going to…"

I was what? Was I going to take him back to the clinic? Was I going to tell him he missed out on the party? Am I apologizing then leaving him alone for good?

I stared at the back slightly turned away from the doorway. The shoulders were slumped like always, but it was the first time it hit me how small he was. He'd hate it if I said that out loud, but a pang of protectiveness washed over me. This man may have a strong will, but he can also be so fragile.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I proceeded to walk over and nervously sat next to him on the piano bench. He didn't seem to react, but I could now see his face. He looked calmly out the window, just watching the night sky with no word, comment, or any stress on his façade. Maybe he was too tired to care, or maybe Shamal gave him medicine that calmed him down. Either way, there was still a hint of a blush on his cheeks that indicated he still had a fever.

I cleared my throat. "Um, are you feeling better?"

A small nod, then a pause. "The Tenth is mad, isn't he?" he asked, voice hoarse.

"He's concerned about your health, that's all."

Another nod.

I continued. "I mean, the party went on, with people checking up on you in shifts. Seriously, all he really wants you to do is get better-."

"I know," Gokudera said. "He left me a note at the infirmary. He said to just get better, and that everything was ok…"

"See? Then no worries—."

"But it's my fault!" He exclaimed, banging the top of the piano with his fist. "My fucking fault! Why can't I - Why did I…" He wiped a tear with the back of his hand. "I'm suck a fucking idiot…" He sobbed, more tears streaming down his cheeks. "mm—fucking pathetic!"

Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around him, then squeezed. I've never seen him cry, but seeing it just this once was painful enough, like each tear was causing this sharp jabbing feeling in my chest. I held him tight, fearing he'd push me away or let go, but he did neither. Instead, the lithe body slumped tiredly against mine.

"It's my fault," I apologized. "Please don't think you did anything about what happened."

"You're an idiot…"

I chuckled. "I know. And this idiot caused a lot of people a mess." I gently pushed him away enough to see his face. "There's something I have to tell you."

He stared wearily at me with swollen, heavy eyes.

I held both his hands in mine. He felt warm "Hayato," I said, looking deeply at him. "I love you."

I felt a finger twitch.

"I'm very madly in love with you," I said. "I love you so much that I became an even bigger idiot. I let it overwhelm me and got scared. Everyday I wake up and think about you, what you're doing, and what you're feeling. I started worrying about the little things, like did I make your coffee the way you wanted it, or did I stack the dishes the way you'd like. I even worried about anyone touching you, or even anyone else getting too close to you. And at some point, I started to wonder if you would go through the same lengths as me. Would you care at all about how I wanted to do the little things? I started wondering 'Does he love me?' After seven years, you never really told me."

I felt his hands pull back, but I held on firmly. I rushed on, "But I'm wrong! I realize now. When I saw you on the ground, I thought I was…." I paused, steadying my voice. "It's not about what I've done for you or what you haven't done for me. In the grand scheme of things, it's really about making you happy. If it meant sacrificing a part of myself for you, I'd do it, because that's what it means to love someone. I'm… I'm sorry for everything. It's my entire fault and I know it. I just… I hurt you and …"

The tenseness of his hands faded and his eyes softened into something unreadable. I couldn't bear looking at him, so I looked down at our entwined hands. It was silent for a few moments and I could hear the grandfather clock across the room ticking ever-so slowly.

"I love you," he said softly.

My head snapped up to peer at the man before me. The silverette's face looked red as a tomato.

"D-don't fucking make me repeat it," he stammered, turning to face the piano once again.

I laughed softly, trying to tamper down the uncontrollable beating of my heart. I hugged him in another tight embrace, resting my head on his chest. His heart was beating as fast as mine, and his body was growing ever-so warm. It felt so good and so certain to be there.

"Say, Hayato…" I said, shifting to face him again. I leaned closer, our faces almost touching.

"What now?" he bit out, but he didn't pull back. I could feel his breath quicken.

"Can I kiss you?"

He looked at me with a mixed expression, as if he didn't know whether to beat me up or yell at me, but a tiny smile soon painted his lips.

"You're such an idiot." He responded, pulling my shirt then sealing our lips.

xxxxx

"Hey, is Octopus Head still sick?" Ryohei asked as he was readying to board the car going to the airport.

The guardians stationed in Japan were now at front porch of the villa, making arrangements to load the car with luggage.

"Er, yeah. Ha-ha." I laughed, feigning innocence.

"That's too bad. I know he was looking forward to going home," Chrome said, adjusting her messenger bag. "I guess that's why you're not coming either?"

I just smiled in response.

Haru made a "Hmmm" sound. She tilted her head, stared at me, and then beamed brightly. She slapped my back hard. "Awww! You go, Yamamoto!" she squealed.

"Eh? Is there something going on?" Chrome asked, blinking confusedly.

"Oh, it's nooooothing." Haru covered her mouth then giggled profusely.

"You better keep quiet, stupid woman." A voice growled behind me.

"Hayato, I thought you were in bed," I said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

He reluctantly accepted my kiss, blushing at such a simple act. He's so cute.

He gently pushed me away. "Don't over do it."

Chrome and Ryohei looked at each other then shrugged in understanding. I didn't bother explaining myself. At some point, the word will get out and all will be explained.

Haru giggled some more. "Oh, right. There's nothing to keep quiet about anyway. OHohohoo." She sauntered off into the car before Hayato could respond in some violent way.

The three guardians completed loading up the car, gave their good-byes, then drove off to the airport.

I watched as the car slowly became a spec in the distance, wondering about my journey ahead.

"Let's go, the Tenth asked for us," Hayato said, breaking my thoughts.

I laughed softly to myself. Same old Hayato was back, but now with a slightly more honest streak. I placed my arm around his shoulders then gave him another kiss on the cheek. I kissed him once again, my mouth trailing across his cheek to cover those velvet-like lips. My heart jumped when he gingerly opened his mouth and touched the tip of his tongue on my lower lip. I shifted my head and nibbled his.

He pushed me hastily away. "We better go," he said, a little breathless.

I held him closer. "We still have time…"

"You…"

"Just for a bit…"

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, then stopped halfway. "…Ok…"

I hugged him tightly then I kissed him again and again.

It wasn't akin to a scene from a romance novel, where a couple on a cliff confesses their love for each other amidst dramatic waves crashing in the background with a vibrant orchestra playing a song across the credits. It wasn't even like Romeo and Juliet, where the relationship was so tragic yet considered an epic romance to be fawned on for ages. And we most certainly are not the perfect couple who agree on issues 100% and have the same interests and values.

Yet, my heart feels complete with just having this one man beside me. And with my one true love in my arms, outside a beautiful villa on a quiet summer day, I feel like I'm the happiest man in the world.

End of Chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: ** My Ex-boyfriend Part 7 (Extra)  
**Rating: **M (cursing + NWSF!)  
**Genre: ** Romance, Drama  
**Pairing: **8059 (Yamamoto x Gokudera)  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Summary: **_ My 1st KHR fic. After many years of dating, Yamamoto and Gokudera decide to break up, but is this really going to work? Yama and Goku's POV. _

**Author Notes: **  
a. Goku's POV :-D  
b. NWSF (IE – not work/kid safe)! It's not too intense, so I am able to post also on ffnet, but it is still NWSF.  
c. LOL I don't think I'm a great NWSF-scene writer, but I hope you still enjoy.  
d. Thnx for all the support, comments, reviews, and con-crits! This is the most fun and nicest fandom I've run into! I'd love to write more 8059 (suggestions most welcome) amongst the plot bunnies running rabid in my head haha.

**Gokudera:**

The idiot really is an idiot. He asked me, "Can I kiss you?" What the fuck is he thinking being so fucking corny?

I stared stupidly at him as I sat on the piano bench in the music room that evening. His expression went from love-struck to uncertain to almost a puppy-like eagerness.

I couldn't help but smile a little, admitting defeat that Takeshi Yamamoto, while scary in his focused "hitman" mode, can also be one hell of an adorable dimwit.

I pulled him roughly into a chaste kiss. I could feel him jump in surprise, but quickly leaned in on the kiss. It felt good. So damn good to feel this man's heat against my body. My temperature was rising more than it already has, so I started to feel a little faint. I pulled back to breathe some air.

He panted heavily against my neck, grunting something unintelligible.

"What?" I asked, breathless.

"Nothing." He said, but his voice sounded a bit strained.

He was looking at my neck intensely, as if burning a whole through my skin. Suddenly, I remembered the events on the plane. While the hickey has almost healed, there was still a very light redness there that can only be seen up close.

I squirmed. "I already told you, it's not like that! Mukuro's - mmmph!"

His mouth clashed roughly against mine, immediately shoving his tongue inside to silence me. His tongue felt hot and thick, its wetness causing a slick sound that's strangely erotic.

"I still… don't… like it," he said in-between kisses. He trailed his mouth down my cheek toward the junction of my neck and shoulder.

I shuddered when I felt his tongue lap the previously marked spot. He opened his mouth then clamped down hard.

"OW! SHIT!" I cried out. "STOP, that hurts!" I tried pushing him away, but the more I resisted the harder he bit down. Soon, I felt a prickle and a stinging sensation against my neck. Takeshi began sucking hard, causing another wave of that stinging sensation, then a dull, achy pain, as if this act was a mix of punishment and comfort. I couldn't believe I stopped resisting. The pain felt kind of… good.

After a few final licks, he pulled back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. There was a thin spot of blood on the side of his swollen mouth. His eyes were different, glowing brightly amber with heat and hunger.

I must be a masochist, because the pain, the blood, and his look were getting me really excited. I was only wearing a clinic nightgown, but I already felt strained. Maybe it's the full moon, or maybe it's recent lack of sex, but I just wanted to do more. I grabbed a fistful of his shirt then ripped it open, causing some buttons to pop off and fall in-between the piano keys.

"Wait," he said, but made no move to stop my unbuttoning of the rest of his shirt. "You're sick…"

"C'mon…Let's just go to my room"

"But your fever-"

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pushed my body close, and then arched my back in the way I knew he couldn't resist. I licked the spot of blood on his mouth and hotly whispered, "Then break my fever."

With a groan, he lifted me off the bench and settled me down on the piano keys. A strangled chord rang across the music room.

My eyes widened in shock. "Ow! You IDIOT! You're going to break the piano! And it's fucking loud! I already said we can go to my room!" I moved to get off the piano, but was immediately held down with a strong hand on my hip.

"It'll be ok," he said, eyes showing a hint of amusement.

"Someone will hear, stupid—."

He smiled mischievously. "Only if you move too much."

"WHAT?"

He removed the gown and my underwear in a swift motion. Then he positioned his face between my thighs while hiking up my legs on his shoulders.

"Hayato is so cute," he commented amusedly.

I hid my face in my palms. My erection was within plain sight, hard, erect, and visibly wet. The tip of his tongue slid from the bottom to the top of its length before completely enclosing it in his mouth. My body tensed in shock and pleasure. I bit down on my lip to keep from crying aloud and moving my hips. I wanted so bad to thrust into the wet heat, but it was such an awkward position trying to keep from hitting any keys.

I cried out, both from frustration of not being able to move, and the impending desire.

"Ahhh…" I moaned. "Takeshi… I'm…" I laced my fingers through his dark hair and pulled hard. I threw my head back as waves of pleasure overrode my senses and I released into his mouth.

After I finished, he pulled away and spat my cum on his hand.

"S-sorry," I whispered voice hoarse.

Takeshi wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He chuckled, "Wow, you're so fast today."

"Shut up," I bit out, cheeks flaming in embarrassment. "It… it's been a while."

Takeshi's eyes softened. "I know…"

Quickly, he repositioned me to face the piano. My hands were splayed flat on top of the closed lid as he lifted my hips higher. He impatiently pushed a finger from his wet hand into my entrance, causing my back to arch. I was growing hard again. After a moment, he inserted another wet finger, then another. He slowly moved the fingers up and down, back and forth in smooth, languid motions.

"God, just do it!" I cried out impatiently. I wasn't lasting very long.

I heard an annoying chuckle behind me, then felt a blunt object slowly pushing in at the entrance. Halfway through, he pulled back slightly then thrust in as far as he could.

"Mnnn," I whimpered. It burned, yet it felt so good I wanted more. I moved my hips back, indicating to keep moving.

He thrusted long and hard, gradually speeding up the pace until it was almost a little too rough. But I loved the feeling of him filling me up with his heat and almost breaking me inside. And whenever he touched that spot, it was nothing that can be described.

I felt my fever rising higher and higher. The temperature, the motions, and even the sounds were becoming unbearable. I went on with it, wave after wave, until my body couldn't take it anymore.

"Ahhhhh!" I cried out. "T-takeshi!" I threw my head back and squeezed hard as I splattered my cum all over the piano. He came hard deep inside me soon after.

After the waves of pleasure subsided, he shifted me so that I was sitting on his lap and surrounded by the warmth of his arms. He gently stroked my hair and whispered sweet nothing in my ear.

I was so tired; I didn't hear any of it. I simply sank into the moment of quiet tenderness, and then fell deeply asleep.

-Owari :) -


End file.
